Now, what news on the Rialto?
Now, what news on the Rialto?
Why, yet it lives there unchecked that Antonio
hath a ship of rich lading wracked on the
Narrow Seas—the Goodwins, I think they call the
place—a very dangerous flat, and fatal, where the
carcasses of many a tall ship lie buried, as they say,
if my gossip Report be an honest woman of her word.
It was my turquoise! I had it of Leah when
I was a bachelor. I would not have given it
for a wilderness of monkeys.
I would she were as lying a gossip in that as
ever knapped ginger or made her neighbors believe
she wept for the death of a third husband. But
it is true, without any slips of prolixity or crossing
the plain highway of talk, that the good Antonio,
the honest Antonio—O, that I had a title good
enough to keep his name company!—
Come, the full stop.
Ha, what sayest thou? Why, the end is, he
hath lost a ship.
I would it might prove the end of his losses.
Let me say “amen” betimes, lest the devil
cross my prayer, for here he comes in the likeness
of a Jew.
How now, Shylock, what news among the merchants?
You knew, none so well, none so well as you,
of my daughter’s flight.
That’s certain. I for my part knew the tailor
that made the wings she flew withal.
And Shylock for his own part knew the bird
was fledge, and then it is the complexion of them
all to leave the dam.
She is damned for it.
That’s certain, if the devil may be her judge.
My own flesh and blood to rebel!
Out upon it, old carrion! Rebels it at these years?
I say my daughter is my flesh and my blood.
There is more difference between thy flesh
and hers than between jet and ivory, more between
your bloods than there is between red wine and
Rhenish. But tell us, do you hear whether Antonio
have had any loss at sea or no?
There I have another bad match! A bankrout,
a prodigal, who dare scarce show his head on
the Rialto, a beggar that was used to come so smug
upon the mart! Let him look to his bond. He was
wont to call me usurer; let him look to his bond. He
was wont to lend money for a Christian cur’sy; let
him look to his bond.
Why, I am sure if he forfeit, thou wilt not
take his flesh! What’s that good for?
To bait fish withal; if it will feed nothing else,
it will feed my revenge. He hath disgraced me and
hindered me half a million, laughed at my losses,
mocked at my gains, scorned my nation, thwarted
my bargains, cooled my friends, heated mine enemies—
and what’s his reason? I am a Jew. Hath not
a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions,
senses, affections, passions? Fed with the
same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to
the same diseases, healed by the same means,
warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer
as a Christian is? If you prick us, do we not
bleed? If you tickle us, do we not laugh? If you
poison us, do we not die? And if you wrong us, shall
we not revenge? If we are like you in the rest, we will
resemble you in that. If a Jew wrong a Christian,
what is his humility? Revenge. If a Christian wrong
a Jew, what should his sufferance be by Christian
example? Why, revenge! The villainy you teach me I
will execute, and it shall go hard but I will better the
Enter a man from Antonio.
Gentlemen, my master Antonio is at his
house and desires to speak with you both.
We have been up and down to seek him.
Here comes another of the tribe; a third
cannot be matched unless the devil himself turn Jew.
Salarino, Solanio, and the Servingman exit.
How now, Tubal, what news from Genoa?
Hast thou found my daughter?
I often came where I did hear of her, but
cannot find her.
Why, there, there, there, there! A diamond
gone cost me two thousand ducats in Frankfurt!
The curse never fell upon our nation till now, I
never felt it till now. Two thousand ducats in that,
and other precious, precious jewels! I would my
daughter were dead at my foot and the jewels in her
ear; would she were hearsed at my foot and the
ducats in her coffin. No news of them? Why so? And
I know not what’s spent in the search! Why, thou
loss upon loss! The thief gone with so much, and so
much to find the thief, and no satisfaction, no
revenge, nor no ill luck stirring but what lights a’ my
shoulders, no sighs but a’ my breathing, no tears but
a’ my shedding.
Yes, other men have ill luck, too. Antonio, as I
heard in Genoa—
What, what, what? Ill luck, ill luck?
—hath an argosy cast away coming from
I thank God, I thank God! Is it true, is it true?
I spoke with some of the sailors that escaped
I thank thee, good Tubal. Good news, good
news! Ha, ha, heard in Genoa—
Your daughter spent in Genoa, as I heard, one
night fourscore ducats.
Thou stick’st a dagger in me. I shall never
see my gold again. Fourscore ducats at a sitting,
There came divers of Antonio’s creditors in my
company to Venice that swear he cannot choose
I am very glad of it. I’ll plague him, I’ll
torture him. I am glad of it.
One of them showed me a ring that he had of
your daughter for a monkey.
Out upon her! Thou torturest me, Tubal. It
was my turquoise! I had it of Leah when I was a
bachelor. I would not have given it for a wilderness
But Antonio is certainly undone.
Nay, that’s true, that’s very true. Go, Tubal,
fee me an officer. Bespeak him a fortnight before. I
will have the heart of him if he forfeit, for were he
out of Venice I can make what merchandise I will.
Go, Tubal, and meet me at our synagogue. Go, good
Tubal, at our synagogue, Tubal.